Senses
by chinesefirethorn
Summary: Relationships take a long time to form. It's not enough to say I love you and expect a happy ending. Lee and Gaara discover what it takes to love another. Rating will go up in future chapters.


**Title:** Touch (1/?)  
**Disclaimer:** Kishimoto-san owns Naruto. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Pairing:** LeexGaara  
**Form:** Relationship development through the senses. Lee's POV. 3rd person, limited omniscient. Is part of a series but can stand as an independent fic.  
**Content:** **Cookies to anyone who can figure out the story _and_ context. It's all packed in the fic. :3**  
**Title Basis:** Senses.

It was a simple touching of hands.

Fleeting, almost an imitation of a cool breeze caressing his skin. He felt his face heat up. The pale hand retreated while his eyes followed its path, sliding up the length of the arm. _His_ eyes were on him. Their gaze met in silence.

"Your skin is rough."

It was Lee who looked away first. "Ah…yeah. Training can make your skin like that. And since I use my hands a lot, they became a little calloused." He flexed his bandaged hands. There was still a weight pressing down on him. That was normal, though his teammates probably wouldn't think so. These days, his friend had taken to watching him- stalking even. This wasn't the first time he touched him either. But he was…okay with that. More than, actually.

He could see the roof of the Hokage's office, and a little beyond that, the four silent faces carved on earth. The moonlight cast shadows over the deceased rulers' features.

The feeling of sadness took longer to leave than when it came. Lee wondered if Gaara would have a monument in Suna someday. 'Probably. He is the Kazekage,' he reasoned, 'Then again…'

The image of Gaara's intense gaze looming over the sand dunes made him smile. Gaara's unnerving stare was something he'd come to terms with over the months. It seemed like forever since he'd last been afraid of those eyes. Frankly, Lee found the younger boy's expressions- or lack of, refreshing. Sometimes, they made his blood rush.

The weight beside him shifted and the pressure eased up. He turned his head back to him. Gaara had pulled his knees close to his chest, arms wrapped around them. He was looking at his fingers. "Tell me, Lee. What does it mean to touch?"

After making sure his pulse had returned to normal, Lee scratched his cheek as he spoke. "Well, we're friends. And touching is proof that we care about each other!" He believed in being affectionate. Touch was a good form of showing you care about someone, especially one who was leaving in the morning.

His raised thumb received the brunt of Gaara's stare, causing it to tuck itself between his other fingers.

But…

From Gaara's dissatisfied look, it didn't answer the _other_ question. Lee turned away from him and sighed. How was he supposed to answer that without being subjective?

A small part of him resented having to second-guess the undertones in Gaara's words. On the other hand, it felt special to constantly be expected to know what was on his friend's mind. It's certainly better than being underestimated. Which brought his thoughts back to the question.

He may not be a genius, but he did recognize the signs. He hated himself for that. It would have been easier to remain ignorant, because he wasn't totally sure. Because it would hurt if he was wrong. He didn't think he could stand being broken for the second time by the same person.

The brief silence passing between them was interrupted with the morning call of a bird. Lee sat up. The first rays of light struck Hokage mountain. Soon after, a faint glow stretched out through the village and reflected on clotheslines and closed windows. The sun was already rising but he still couldn't find the words. He was running out of time-

"Can it mean more?" The words were almost inaudible.

The distant tinkle of a bell rang through the air, and everything snapped into place. Lee used to think that when this moment came, the world would rejoice with him. That somehow, everything he'd done would lead to acceptance, to happiness.

The sounds of a waking village broke the remaining silence. He couldn't bring himself to look at Gaara. He didn't trust his face to show the right emotion. Below them, civilians and shinobi alike greeted each other 'Good morning' and went about their businesses. A few children ran by, laughing. It was both less than and more than the one hundred-percent perfect moment.

Here, on the roof of his apartment, his hand enclosed another's. It was the return grasp that made him capture the other in a tight embrace. "Yes."

A simple touch and a promise.

A/N: I know, I know. My writing style is unusual... :/ But I'd rather leave details to the reader's imagination. I tend to put style over content at times...which is why even my crack fics become serious no matter what I do. I admire crack writers who never seem to run out of witty lines...


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